


Feeling Warm In Cold Love

by priscilacross, stamppvindy



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 16:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18076823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/priscilacross/pseuds/priscilacross, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stamppvindy/pseuds/stamppvindy
Summary: Set during S5E4 RuinJim is finally realizing Oswald is good to him. Is it too late?





	Feeling Warm In Cold Love

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries but read it this is stamppvindy's and my first collab (and hopefully not the last) and we hope you enjoy the angst. 
> 
> Please tell us what you think as we are thinking about a second part for this where all the tension will be resolved, hopefully lol
> 
> Title taken from Cold Love by Rainbow Kitten Surprise. Listen to it I listened to it almost exclusively while writing this lol it has such gobblepot feels you guys

 

 

> "It's second nature to love you, it's first to die... We weren't prepared to live but rebelled to realize." Cold Love- Rainbow Kitten Surprised

 

This city was in ruins. No matter how much he tried, failure would always be at the end of the road. Forever in a loop. Jim was angry. He was angry that he can't ever save the innocent people. Angry because he couldn't find whoever was responsible for blowing up the Haven. Angry because everytime, he continues to have hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe things can get better, but the truth is always far more cruel.

Everything collapsed in front of his face.

And then there was Oswald. His initial reaction towards Oswald always seems to be anger. They've been through so much together. Oswald always promising his friendship and help. He was always… well, _willing_.

Oswald is… far more gentle than anyone ever gives him credit. The simple fact that he came back to help him search for whoever is responsible for Haven’s destruction. Oswald was far too generous for a criminal. _I’m an honest criminal, Jim._ He can’t help but laugh lightly at the memory of Oswald being so insulted by his speculations.

At the end of the day, Jim ended up in his office in the GCPD, glass of whiskey in hand. Drinking away the night. Too afraid to close his eyes least he saw flames and burned bodies. Or worst, dark hair and icy blue eyes. He drank until everything went black, consciousness leaving him. He knew he needed to stop before that, but he just couldn't put the damned bottle down. And he got drunk every night after that. Until the liquor ran out two weeks after.

-

 

Jim paid a visit to Oswald at the City Hall. It looked like Oswald was doing pretty well. Everything was pristine and there was muscle everywhere. He was surprised they even let him in. He guessed if any of Harvey's ramblings about Oswald having a hard on for him were true, that was probably the reason. Oswald would never cease to amaze him. After everything Jim had done, Oswald was always willing to forgive his transgressions and move on.

He was escorted to Oswald office. It was dark outside but the moonlight oozed through the large windows lining the wall. It was clear the gangster was waiting for him. His fancy whiskey decanter and two glasses set on his desk.

“A drink, Jim?”

Jim raised his eyebrow. _Yes, please._ Wasn't that why he was here after all? He knew, he _knew_ , it was wrong. He really shouldn't be drinking, it was a good thing he ran out of booze. But this was probably expensive whiskey, how could he refuse? That was really just the remaining alcohol in his system talking.

He shook his head, straining.

Oswald smiled, sly and proud. Jim stayed silence, his eyes glued on Oswald as the man poured his own glass while humming. Like he knew. He was sure he knew, Oswald had eyes everywhere. Surely some mole at the GCPD told him about his drunken nights.

“Why are you here?” _If not for the alcohol,_ was left unspoken, but confirmed Jim's suspicions. Oswald knew. Of course he did.

And that was just it wasn't it. There was absolutely no reason for him to be here. Not one that would benefit him anyway. Oswald looked pleased by his lack of an answer. Pleased by Jim's presence alone. Or maybe he was just in a good mood today. Why was he in such a good mood after everything that happened? The thought made him feel bad in his stomach. Maybe that was also just the alcohol. _What's wrong with me today?_

“Barbara is pregnant,” he blurted.

Then silence.

The atmosphere in the room was changing and Oswald froze. After a few seconds, he brought his glass to his lips and downed it.

After what felt like being at the end of the line in a supermarket on a Sunday afternoon, but was really only like half a minute, Oswald put on his fake smile and turned to him.

“Congratulation” Oswald said.

Jim stayed silent. Having nothing to add. He wasn't thankful for his half assed congratulations, that wasn't what he wanted to hear from Oswald at a time like this.

“I'm leaving Gotham,” Oswald confessed. “Good news for you all around, huh?” he said in that fake, all too loud, cheery tone.

“I thought Gotham was your home,” Jim said trying to remain calm though everything inside him told him to protest. How dare Oswald leave Gotham? Leave _him_? Why now? Why was he so willingly giving up when all those years ago, his life in danger, he fought so hard to come back.

“Yes, Gotham is and will always be my home,” Oswald said. “Unfortunately, there's nothing left for me here,” Oswald said quietly, more like to himself than talking with Jim.

Jim wanted to howl.

Oswald continued, a tiny hint of sadness in his tone that made Jim's insides twist. “Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“But there's no way out,” Jim said sounding more desperate than he wanted to give away.

“Don't concern yourself with small details, Jim. We’re working on it.”

_We?_

“This city doesn't need me anymore, and there's nothing I need that it can give me. At some point, we just need to move on. If I didn't know you better, I would offer you to come along. But I know you, Jim Gordon,” Oswald said, the last sentence dripping with longing.

Jim felt more lost. The room spun around his head and he felt like he was losing his footing. He was as sober as can be, yet he felt trapped in a drunken nightmare. A nightmare where he walking in the dark and there was no one beside him to help him along the way.

That’s when Oswald turned his back to Jim, said he had work to do. Jim's brain filtered a few words of what Oswald was saying. “... Pleasure… old friend… go back…”

Jim felt like he was at the bottom of the river. The pressure of everything keeping him down, making it hard for him to breath. His vision clouded, his ears felt like they were full of sand. His limbs felt like dead weight, why couldn't he move?

“Goodbye, Jim.”

He snapped at the sound of those words. He approached the smaller man and grabbed his wrist forcefully making Oswald turn around. They faced each other, confusion clouding Oswald's crystal clear eyes. Jim lost it and decided to do what he should have done a long time ago.

Jim closed the gap between them, with every intention of kissing Oswald's soft looking lips. He did not hesitate for even half a second.

Before he could press his lips against Oswald's, the gangster pushed him away and took a few steps back, away from Jim's reach.

“What’s wrong with you?” the dark haired man asked, furious.

“Oswald, I…” Jim tried to reach Oswald’s hand, but Oswald continued to step back until his back touched his desk. He was cornered. Jim could do as he wished with him. There was a sour taste in his mind at the thought of forcing himself upon Oswald. Upon anyone. That just wouldn't do it. That wasn’t him. Or was it? Maybe he was just like any other criminal after all. He longed for the smaller man's touch so much. He wanted. The silence between them was deafening, all he could hear was his own pulse, going fast and faster. There was a tightness in his chest that he wouldn’t get rid of unless he made sure Oswald wasn’t leaving him. He longed to touch him. But he wanted it to be mutual. Where was the Oswald that looked at him with adoration in his eyes?

Oswald reached for the gun he kept on his desk and pointed it at Jim, his eyes red like he was about to cry but was fighting away the tears.

“Don't you dare touch me.” Oswald was trembling with anger, “I'm not one of your women, James.”

Jim has never seen Oswald this vulnerable. He wanted to hug him until he melted in his arms.

“Why did you do it?” Jim asked.

Oswald looked at him confused, the light from outside made Oswald look tired. He could find rest in his arms if only he would give in.

“Do what?”

“Everything you do. The guns, come to me when Jerome was terrorizing the city, arrange for me and Lee to leave Gotham, go to jail for me when I killed Galavan, spare my life even though you have more than enough reason to kill me. You’ve killed for less and yet...” He could go on for a while. Oswald has never done anything but try to help him. Even when he knew he’d never get any favors in return, even when he knew he wouldn’t even get a smidge of gratefulness from him. “Oswald, I’ve never been anything but a complete asshole to you, so why do you keep helping me?”

Feeling like he knew the answer, he wanted to keep pushing until Oswald spilled his feelings for him. Maybe that way he wouldn't feel like such a fool for believing Oswald still had feelings for him. Deep inside he knew it would be better if Oswald threw him out. Let him wallow in his misery and self-hate. If only he had accepted Oswald's drink, if only he could ask for enough to get intoxicated, to drown in alcohol. Oswald is smart, he knows that staying as far away from James Gordon as he could was the best course of action.

Jim sighed, letting out a tiny, almost manic laugh.

“Why are you so good to me when all I’ve ever done is hurt you?”

“Why do you care about the reason, Jim? Wasn't it enough that I showed you kindness every time? It was never going to be enough, and I accepted that.” Oswald steadied himself. Letting the gun fall on his desk again, he turned to pour himself another drink. Once again he downed the glass, letting out a tiny chuckle as he set the empty glass down. He rested his backside against the desk and looked at the blond. “And suddenly you want to change your mind?” He let out a breathy laugh, “I never took you for a fickle man, Jim.”

“Fickle? No. Stubborn perhaps.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Jim. If you're done here, I'd appreciate it if you would leave.”

He couldn't. He couldn't leave even when he knew it was in Oswald's best interest. This wasn't love, this was a primal need. A dependency of sorts. If he couldn't have alcohol then he would have Oswald. With that he closed the distance between himself and the gangster trapping him against the desk. One arm on each side of Oswald, the smaller man's thighs in between his own. He looked into Oswald's tired eyes full of shock and desperation.

“I can't. I can't leave you.”

Jim grabbed Oswald's face in his hands as gentle as he could. Oswald tried to pull away, turning his face away from him as much as his limited range of motion allowed. As he thought, he didn't want it if it wasn't welcomed. He let his head fall on Oswald's shoulder.

Feeling defeated, he heard himself whisper, “Please kiss me.”

Oswald tensed at his words and Jim caressed his neck. He rubbed his nose against Oswald's exposed skin, taking in his wonderful scent. This is why he'd always tried to keep his distance. After getting close to Oswald a few times, he knew he couldn't resist it if he ever came too close again.

Oswald in all his wisdom, tried to push him away, but it was weak. Jim could feel his resolve slowly breaking.

Jim pulled back to face the gangster again, he rested his forehead against Oswald's.

“Please, Oswald. I need you.”

Their lips were almost brushing against each other, but he needed to leave that last movement to Oswald. After waiting for what felt like hours, Jim kissed him. Being unable to hold back proved just how low Jim had fallen. Oswald wasn't kissing back, but Jim ground his groin against Oswald and the man gasped. Jim's tongue explored Oswald's hot mouth he could taste… was that…

He pulled away slightly to look at Oswald's face then down at the empty glass, then back at Oswald. There was tears running down his rosy cheeks.

“Oswald, is that apple juice?”

The man in question nodded, squeezing his eyes shut to rid himself of the tears.

Oswald was too good to him. Yet all Jim seemed to give back was pain.

“You never intended to encourage my alcoholic tendencies, huh?”

The dark haired man shook his head, eyes still squeezed shut, his eyebrows furrowed.

He leaned down and kissed away Oswald's tears. But it seemed as though the more he kissed his cheeks and eyelids, the more the tears flowed.

“I don't want this,” Oswald spoke, raw and hesitant. “I don't want to be another one of your… convenient paramours. I don't want you to use me and leave me behind once you've taken everything you want.”

Jim caressed Oswald's cheek again, stared right into his icy blue eyes that were somehow warmer than any Summer day in Gotham, “Oswald, nothing about this is convenient, but I'm willing to fight for this. I'm willing to change.”

“I don't want this. Please leave, Jim.”

Oswald had observed every relationship Jim's had since he met him. He didn't want that. They were all physical except for Lee. But only because the doctor had been the one to establish certain parameters. Jim will always love his work and his askew sense of justice more than he will ever love anyone. Saying he was willing to change, but offering no evidence of change, it was so like Jim. Words were easily spewed out, but he wasn't sure Jim had what it took to accomplish such change.

Jim wanted him in the dark now, but that isn't what Oswald wanted anymore. Jim will show his true self in the dark, but what will become of Oswald once the daylight comes? He wouldn't be able to stand being left behind. He wanted all of Jim or nothing at all. Was it better to have experienced and lost? Or to live in oblivion? He'd rather live not knowing. He'd lost enough already. Unless Jim was ready to give him everything, he didn't want half hearted passions.

  
  



End file.
